Walford began to regain consciousness and he looked around…but he wasn’t in the arena with his team. He was somewhere…where darkness was everywhere. Void were the walls and shadows were the doors. Vague whispers and voices crossed his path every now and then. He scratched his head confusingly, and groped his way around.
Imps, demons, monsters and abominations all appeared and disappeared in his mind’s eye. And as he looked, he felt a small glow around him for the first time. He felt…dangerous, uncontrolled, chaos waiting to be unleashed. Then the feeling was gone.

“Bring him back…we don’t know for sure yet.”

“In the Arena? Surely it’s a better idea to eliminate them now.”

“Just do it, we can’t risk it Xr’rash.”

Muffled voices came through, although he had no comprehension of what it was about.

Perhaps it was a premonition. Perhaps it was a dream. Because it was the first sign that something ancient and dangerous was happening.

I attempt to move as far away from the imp as possible to give me a better chance of not dieing from the blast. Shortly after I manage to get to a safe-ish distance. When I had gotten to a good distance I yelled “Nicholas, I am at a good distance! you should start running now!”

I turn around and glance at Arken. I quickly start running away from the wretched beast, but I was just too tired from the battling. I briskly managed to make a jump towards Arken, hoping I was far enough from the imp to not be harmed by the imp. I slowly got up and called out to everyone, telling them to move back.

Slowly but surely, Arken was making progress across the ground. Come on…left hand. Right hand. Left foot. Right foot. Move up…he forced himself to drag himself across the arena floor, bit by bit, centimetre by centimetre, inch by inch. He had already felt one explosion and he knew he would never last another one. He looked back, and yelled, “Nicholas, I’m safe! You should start running!”

Nicholas heard the call and looked back. He realised the imp was actually emitting smoke now, and the skin was cracking. Not good. He ran back like a sniper bullet, shooting across and made a jump towards Arken.

Then BAM. The explosion hit. Everything within a metre was vaporised. Nick looked back in awe, then the explosion was gone. The only remains was a single horn in the middle of dead-black ashes.

2 of 2 imps have died. Await the other groups finish to advance in the story, and the tournament.

Group FOUR

Turtle rushes towards his axe and pulls it out. Blood continued to gush out of all the bruises and scars on his skin, but he ignored it. He had a battle to finish. He began to sneak behind the imp that was simply decimating walford. Walford had done a major cut at his torso but the imp was unrelentless. Turtle was now behind the imp. He swung his axe and cleaved down but the imp, feeling the wind rush behind him instinctively took half a step forward. The axe smashed into his back and he fell down in pain, but the step had saved him. He twisted around, facing both Turtle in front of him and Walford behind, he growled, “Alright, I surrender okay?”

Then he suddenly launched up in a desperate attempt to smash Turtle into the ground. But Sparticus saw it coming and he tackled and wrestled with it. He felt like an imp. He scratched, kicked and punched. The imp snarled, and it retaliated. The imp had the advantage – it had claws for its hands and Sparticus began to bleed heavily. Then an arrow shot out of nowhere and pinned the imp’s tail.

Efar had been watching the battle scene and he sensed Sparticus was losing. Getting his bow ready, he aimed for the head and shot, but missed and by chance, hit the tail. After all, aiming while you were on the ground was not the best idea. He loaded another arrow and prepared to shoot when he felt an explosion behind him, the force of an atomic bomb. His hair stood on ends and he was launched into the air. He landed a moment later, blinded and injured. He groped around the ground for his bow, and found it, but he was in no condition to shoot.

Holy cow. I remember that explosion from the last imp. Seeing how close I am to the dead body, this will will like a bomb going off in the face. Not a pleasant thought.

Twisting around quickly and putting the dead body to my back, and feeling my heart fluttering like a caged bird, I leap forward, and for the second time in ten minutes, I am forced to bite the dust. Time seems to slow down, as I quickly crawl around to have my feet facing the spot where the explosion will occur, and my head towards mostly open ground. Split seconds before the explosion, I push myself down flat on the ground, and cover my head.

Hmph. Lying to try to save its own skin. Should’ve expected it, considering what it is. But that…explosion. That was…the other imp? The one I threw off somewhere? I’ll need to remember that. These things don’t go quietly.

Now then, this other imp. I see its tail is pinned down. Knowing these things, it won’t be long before it removes the arrow. Taking the chance I’ve got, I run to it and use my axe to lop off its tail.

Jim, Group 2
Having no knowledge of how to survive explosions, or how they work, I am thankful that I am already on my feet. With only a brief hesitation, I turn my back to the feral creature and begin to sprint in order to put as much distance between me and the imp as possible. I can only hope for the best.

The members of the arena team moved back, afraid of the impending blast. Jim was thankful he was already on his feet. Seeing smoke seeping out, he ran back and hoped he wouldn’t be in the blast radius. RokRokRok watched the demise of the hellspawn, stepping back a bit. He didn’t let his guard drop – looking around and having his bow ready in hand with the polearm besides him, stabbed into the ground. There was a crackling beginning to emerge from the imp. There was no one close…except for Conrad.

Conrad crawled and leapt forward, trying to put some distance between him and the imp. Remembering the last explosion and how he had crashed into the wall, he wasn’t keen to repeat that stunt. He pushed himself flat on the ground, then covered his head with his hands.

The others were standing back, watching the scene. Blast! There was a huge flaming dragon which emitted sparks of fire and death. Then it dissipated and shot into the air everywhere like an erupting volcano. The firestorm showered down onto the ground, then it all vanished, leaving a soft trail of smoke and an atmosphere of pure hatred.

2 of 2 imps have died. Await the other groups finish to advance in the story, and the tournament.

Group FOUR

The remaining imp was pinned to the ground by an arrow on its tail. Quickly, he reached his hand out and began to pull the arrow out then recoiled as an axe swung down and cut off the tail. Walford heard a shout from one of his group members and looked behind him, quickly stabbing back with his sword. The imp took another blow, falling onto the floor. The imp saw there was no way out and took one last desperate option.

“Okay, okay, mercy!”, it begged,“I beg you good sir! Mercy!”

Turtle and Walford looked at each for a split second, mutually agreeing on what had to be done.

The imp looked up, into his eyes, and Turtle saw the faint light of hope, along with a selfish self-serving expression.

Again, Walford and Turtle looked at each other, and Turtle nodded. Walford swung his sword suddenly and violently at the imp, and the imp surprised was beheaded, but not before he leapt onto Walford and held him tight.

These things are almost like terrorists. They blow up and catch as many people in the blast as they can. …Y’know what? Screw this. Dropping the axe, I walk up to Walford and the imp, almost calmly. Putting my hands on its shoulders – one on each – I rip the imp in two and chunk the halves behind me, bracing myself for an explosion either when it’s ripped or when I throw it.

Turtle finally snapped. The damn thing seemed to get in the way no matter what you did. Lie, cheat, fight, kill, the cursed critter would do anything to save its own skin. He dropped the axe, calmly walking over to Walford. Then he put his hands on his shoulder, and letting his anger channel into this, using all his prowess he ripped the imp apart and chucked it behind him. Walford, suddenly felt the weight being lifted and smiled at turtle.

“Thank you very much.”

The duo walked away, the imp bloodied and broken, exploded in a flash of light.

2 of 2 imps have died.

Giant, metallic doors opened to release them from the arenas. A small courtyard outside the 4 battlegrounds was waiting, with the demon that had first taken them there.
“So…you survived.”
“Yep, we did”, said one of the players.
“Be silent, you insolent, stupid imbecile”, the demon said quietly. To prove his point, he held his claws and within a blink of an eye, had it right in front of the contestant’s stomach.
“Now, follow me, if you can”, the draconian monster smirked.

They were shown to a large, spacious dormitory for them to rest. Blood and dirt was stained on the floors and wall ominously. A room to the right opened up to a sparring room with dummies, weapons and armor. It was a pretty neat place, although it was filled with stinking perspiration.

“Here is where you’ll be staying…for the rest of your days.”

The demon smiled, but it was not a friendly smile. It was more of a I know something you don’t that’s going to happen to you kind of smile.

“I’ll send for you in a while. Meanwhile, I suggest you talk amongst yourself and have a rest.”

The next challenge will begin soon. Feel free to talk to each other, have a practice spar and so on.

I quietly walk over to the practice room and pick up a sword. I picked up a bow, then a spear, then a battleaxe. I put them all in random places, behind or in front of the dummies, except for the sword. I sliced at the dummies, jumping from one to the other, switching through weapons and using them all to batter up the old dummies even more. I continued this for a while, intensely practicing.

My headache was finally releasing its grip on me, and I soon noticed the open metallic doors. A notably despicable draconic demon led an expanded group of us to a similarly despicable and defiled room. It was clear that its purpose was for rest and training, but the appearance gave more of a torture chamber’s impression. Sighing to myself as I attempted to dull my smelling sense, I leaned against a bloodied corner, resting my head.

Looking at the armoury, I grab a leather quiver full of fletched arrows, some shoulderpads, gauntlets and leather boots. I ready them all on my body. I grab two dagger sheaves and put them around my waist, where they are easy to reach for. Inside the sheaves I put two plain daggers that were lying around on a table. Making sure everything fits alright, I find a bed to rest upon while carrying all the gear I grabbed. I lean the polearm on a nearby wall, put the bow and quiver beside it, and unbuckle the knive sheaves and put them beside the oth other weapons.

[I would like my polearm to be a ranseur. It is basically a spear with an addition cross hilt that is just under the blade. The hilt is typically not sharp, but it is good for various reasons. Here are some dipictions of them. The middle left one is the one I will be using. This message is so that you are not confused if I say that ‘I wait to capture the enemies blade in the cross hilt of my ranseur.’]

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